Just Detail
by Ellie 5192
Summary: "She agrees she's going to marry him... and then nothing." The aftermath.


**Detail**

She agrees she's going to marry him... and then nothing.

They go back (almost) to how things were before he proposed, because there's just too much to deal with right now between Genoa and him not hating her (let alone loving her), and working on audience trust, and they don't have the emotional stamina to dedicate the time that this relationship needs. It's a big responsibility, and a huge leap of faith, and they have a mile and a half of issues to discuss, and a quick fuck and pretty ring is not going to mend it. Picking up where they left off is not an option, but neither is pretending that they won't one day walk down an aisle as man and wife. It's a weird balance she doesn't think they've yet struck.

But the ring sits proudly on her finger, and she asks if he'd like to keep it safe for her until they're ready to sit down and talk this out properly.

He almost starts hyperventilating at that, clutching at her, and so the conversation ends with her sitting in his lap (on his couch, because she hasn't moved in but she does like to visit), stroking his hair and whispering that she's not going anywhere and she loves him and everything will work out, promise.

The ring is his own kind of promise; an insurance policy to her that so long as it's on her finger, she never has to fear being hurt by him again. (This is metaphorical, of course, because he doesn't immediately start screaming at her when she takes it off to wash the dishes, and he still yells at her sometimes at work when it's shining on her finger. But the principle stands; being in love with her is a physical law of the universe, after all. Not loving her would cause a black hole or something.)

They deal with Genoa as best as they can, all of them, working day and night to just keep the office running; he remains that stupid Director of Morale person through it all and mostly it works. She doesn't know how he pulls it off, but nobody flings themselves into traffic under his guidance, so that's a bonus.

There was an understanding that his firing of her was retracted, probably within the clause 'You own me', so she sticks around and after about three weeks realises that she no longer looks like she was grown somewhere dark and damp.

They haven't slept together but they do sleep together – she stays over at his place a couple of times a week so they can get reacquainted with being in each other's space, and she sleeps in his bed, fully clothed. It's strange, but very nice. Sometimes she even wakes up with him pressed against her back, his face buried between her shoulder and his pillow, and she had almost forgotten he was a sleep-snuggler. Almost. (Her feet are still ice blocks all the time, and that drives him crazy, but it's a small price to pay for him waking up with his arms around her.)

They go on dates. Real dates, with flowers and reserved tables and being discrete because of the press. They make out a lot too, mostly at his place, though there are a few memorable occasions involving her office and once in the makeup room after a show. He respects the boundaries she's put in place, and recognises that part of that is probably a healthy fear of the other foot dropping and him completely taking it all back.

He'll wait a lifetime to prove that fear wrong, if that's what it takes.

She starts dropping tentative hints about their future sometime around the five-weeks-engaged mark, and he is so thrilled that he randomly pulls her into kisses at the thought, and she looks completely bewildered, but he's allowed to do these things now. (She doesn't really mind.) Little comments like 'do you think it'll be viable to share your home office, or do you think we'll need separate spaces – maybe a three-bedder so we each have one?', and the obligatory 'I have to tell you, I can't stand these mugs, the handles are a nightmare', and his favourite 'I really like the other sheet set – the linen rather than Egyptian cotton – they're more snuggly'. He tries not to think about her half-naked legs and fails.

'_We'll see how we go with sharing, and if it's too much we either convert the spare room, renovate or move. Worry about that later'_

'_Nobody is making you throw out your beloved mugs. There's space for your crap too'_

'_I'll make sure to have the bed changed the next time you come over' (He gets Scott's assistant to go and source those exact sheets in another three colours and puts all the others into the guest room cupboard, even though he knows linen needs to be worn in to be as soft as his; they can wear them in together.)_

They are two months into what he's calling Will&Mac2.0 (and several of the Dantana charges have been dropped, including the suit against Don, but there's still a few to deal with) when she slithers up to him in bed and tucks herself into his side, softly kissing his jaw. They don't usually make out in bed exactly because of where it might lead, but he has a sneaking suspicion that _that_ is precisely her point. He finds her lips and kisses back, and she slides herself mostly on top of him, and there is no mistaking it this time.

They walk into work the next morning a little late, tired, and with shit-eating grins. He knows they still have to talk some stuff through, and that she still won't move in until they do. He doesn't care.

His ring is on her finger, and some nights she's in his bed, and he gets to smooch her whenever he wants. All the rest is just detail.


End file.
